


A mountain of maybes and some Icarus wings

by Veto_power_over_clocks



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Gen, Nakamura needs more love, The Nakamura-centric fic nobody asked for, Veto's Kaijou bias is showing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-07 10:05:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4259271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veto_power_over_clocks/pseuds/Veto_power_over_clocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nakamura's doomed to be a supporting character in everyone's life. Sometimes he even doubts he's the protagonist of his own story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was trying to produce as many drabbles as possible for [BPS'](http://basketballpoetsociety.tumblr.com/) Team Battle, and since I had so much fun writing Nakamura in [What did the fox say?](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4143237) I decided to write more about him.
> 
> It ended up as "let's make it seem as if Nakamura had actually been in canon from the start".
> 
> This is going to be a bunch of short fics about Nakamura in Kaijou, in chronological order, written when I need to relax.

The senpai are convinced that they have a chance to win the Interhigh this year, but Shinya knows better. Everyone has heard the news that three of the guys known as the Uncrowned Generals have gone to Rakuzan, and as good as Kaijou is, they don’t stand a chance against them. It’s a fact.

Still, Shinya doesn’t say anything, because he doubts anyone will appreciate it, and there’s a part of him that believes blindly in his senpai, in the team, a part of him that honestly thinks they’ll beat Rakuzan and get the cup.

And then Kasamatsu-senpai miss passes and they lose, and Shinya thinks, _So much for blind faith_.

The thought scares him with its anger, with how hurtful and unfair it is, and Shinya bites the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood - a secret punishment for secret cruelty, even if he knows that everyone else is thinking something similar, because, well, how couldn’t they?

But they all keep quiet and congratulate the team for their work. No one stares at Kasamatsu-senpai, and anyone who might have anything to say holds his tongue.

Shinya swallows the blood, and along with it the pity that Kasamatsu-senpai doesn’t need and doesn’t want from him. 

When he sees the starters the next day he doesn’t need to pretend that he isn’t thinking about yesterday’s match, because he really isn’t: he’s thinking about responsibility, and your place in a team, and believing there’s a weight on your back as a result of having that place.

No one looks at Kasamatsu-senpai, they try not to talk to him, because nobody knows what to say, and when he looks at anyone, when he tries to force their teammates to make eye-contact, they pretend they don’t notice him staring. When Kasamatsu-senpai looks straight at Shinya, Shinya considers ignoring him for a moment, but then he meets his gaze and hopes that the mess of thoughts running through his head ( _I_ do _think it was your fault, but I don’t blame you, does it make sense?_ ) somehow shows on his face. The stare is making Shinya uncomfortable, but he doesn’t look away, and his reward for the effort is that Kasamatsu-senpai’s shoulders relax slightly and he nods in Shinya’s direction.

After practice, Shinya approaches Kasamatsu-senpai in the changing room. He stands next to the older boy, unsure of what to do, and when Kasamatsu-senpai turns to look at Shinya, eyebrow raised in annoyance, Shinya opens his mouth, remembers he doesn’t really have anything to say, and closes it again, licks his lips and tries not to be bothered by Kasamatsu-senpai’s scowl.

“Yes, Nakamura?” Kasamatsu-senpai asks, crossing his arms.

Shinya thinks his words carefully, and then says, in a tone he’d normally use to volunteer to buy something from the cafeteria, “Do you want me to put a curse on anyone?”

Kasamatsu-senpai’s face goes through an interesting variety of expressions, and finally settles on one of absolute confusion.

“You can curse people?”

“I know a couple of curses, but I’ve never cursed anyone. It shouldn’t be that difficult,” Shinya says, matter-of-factly.

“Why do you know curses?” Kasamatsu-senpai says, moving slightly away. Shinya doesn’t have it in himself to be offended.

“I’m interested in the occult. I learned them while I researched about black magic from the Middle Ages.”

“...don’t curse anyone, Nakamura,” Kasamatu-senpai says, shaking his head and giving Shinya a look that makes it clear he’s not sure if he’s joking or not.

“Oh, good. Some of the ingredients would have been hard to get,” Shinya says, nodding, still serious.

Kasamatsu-senpai keeps staring. Shinya smirks.

“You were joking?”

“I know some curses, but they’re not from black magic books,” Shinya admits.

Kasamatsu-senpai lets out a nervous chuckle that makes Shinya smile. It’s not a wide smile, Shinya isn’t very good at those, but it’s soft and well-meaning, and his mom says it makes people feel better.

“Thanks for the offer,” Kasamatsu-senpai says, looking at the floor. “If you really want to do me a favor, can you tell me if Kobori and Moriyama are outside? They’ve been walking on eggshells around me since yesterday and I’m trying to avoid them.”

“Okay.”

Shinya looks outside and sees the two boys pretend they’re not waiting.

“They’re there.”

Kasamatsu-senpai covers his face with a hand and sighs.

“Okay. Thanks, Nakamura.”

Once at home, Shinya looks up the results of the Interhigh matches of the day. The team that won against them yesterday lost today against Rakuzan, and the part of himself that had refused to believe they could win the cup this year makes him feel uncomfortably smug.

At the final, Rakuzan takes first place.


	2. Chapter 2

Rumor has it that Kasamatsu Yukio’s going to quit the club.

The news don’t come as a surprise to Shinya, who hears them during lunchtime, and while some want to talk about Kasamatsu-senpai’s reasons, about how they’d probably do the same if they were in his place, about how he’s been really strong by staying in the team for so long, blah, blah, blah, Shinya is more interested in finding the source of the rumor.

It turns out that some girl had said “I hope he doesn’t quit the club, he’s good,” and from there it had evolved into “Kasamatsu has already written a resignation letter and is going to deliver it this afternoon before practice”.

Shinya finds the girl - a short second year he's positive he has seen before, but whose face he can't place - who blushes and doesn’t meet his eye when she explains the situation, head lowered and hands twisting, like she blames herself for what’s being said, so Nakamura does his best to reassure her that it’s not her fault that people have too much imagination and tend to change what's actually been said to fit their whims. He doesn't think he did a very good job at comforting her, but the thanks him at least five times when he says goodbye, her glases slipping down her nose as she bows her head, so maybe he said something right.

Even if everything’s a rumor, Shinya has a feeling that some of it is probably true - judging by how Kasamatsu-senpai has spent the last two weeks looking increasingly miserable despite how no one has made any comments and how most of them had gotten over the loss after the first day - so he arrives early to afternoon practice and sits down to wait, open book on his lap.

He doesn’t get to read much before he hears three sets of approaching footsteps, and it’s with a bit of remorse that he closes the book and looks up to greet Moriyama-senpai, Kobori-senpai and Kasamatsu-senpai. The latter looks pissed, but his posture is all wrong - he’s too drawn into himself to look threatening - and his steps aren’t fast enough to hide his sadness.

Moriyama-senpai’s the first to see him, and waves. Shinya stands, dusts his pants and waits for them to reach him. There must be some polite way to ask if Kasamatsu-senpai’s really going to quit, some way to bring the conversation to the topic, but then Hayakawa comes running and saves him the effort.

Hayakawa Mitsuhiro is a headache. And an earache. Also sometimes a shoulder-ache, when he gives you a too-enthusiastic pat to congratulate you. He’s also, probably, the most well-meaning hurricane in the world.

“Is it t(r)ue?” Hayakawa says, standing too close to Kasamatsu-senpai and looking at him with pleading, wet eyes. “A(r)e you (r)ea(ll)y quitting the c(l)ub?”

Shinya appreciates having somebody else ask, because Moriyama-senpai’s looking at Hayakawa like he can’t believe that level of tactlessness, while Kobori-senpai seems ready to drag him away to give him a Very Stern Lecture about what you should and shouldn’t say to the guy who’s been hating himself for two weeks.

Kasamatsu-senpai just seems highly uncomfortable at having his personal space invaded.

“I wanted to ask the same thing,” Shinya says, putting a hand on Hayakawa’s arm and gently pushing him back. “Someone from the girls’ club told me.”

“I’m not-” Kasamatsu-senpai starts, raising a hand, but then he seems to decide against whatever gesture he was going to make and whatever words he was meaning to say, leaving his hand up in front of him fora a second, fingers curled, before he brings it to his head to run it through his hair. “You have better things to do than worry about this.”

Again, Hayakawa takes Shinya’s chance to be the first to speak, but this time Shinya actually minds. His lips have just parted to let out his protest when Hayakawa’s already blurting out how they’re teammates, and of course he’s going to worry, and he shouldn’t quit, and he moves too close again, forcing Shinya to pull him back by the shoulder.

“He’s right,” Shinya says when Hayakawa has to stop to breathe. “And if we’re here it’s because we wanted to worry about this.”

Kasamatsu-senpai looks away from them. No one says anything.

_Good job, Shinya, you just killed the conversation._

“We’re going to be late,” Moriyama-senpai says, even if nobody else has arrived, but they all take the excuse to go to the changing room.

During practice, the coach calls Kasamatsu-senpai and they leave the gym to talk. There are nervous looks all around, until someone asks, “Can he get kicked out of the club?”

Kasamatsu-senpai returns later looking shocked and smaller than usual (which is a feat, considering he’s one of the shortest guys on the team, if not the shortest one), but now his steps are too fast, like there isn’t any sadness dragging him down, and he trains with an intensity that Shinya hasn’t seen in anyone outside of a match.

“I take it the talk went well?” Shinya asks when he gets a chance to speak to Kasamatsu-senpai.

Kasamatsu-senpai gives him a humorless half-smile.

“That depends of your definition of ‘well’. But I’m staying in the club for another year, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“No more moping then?” Shinya says without thinking, and gets a kick to the shin.

_This is why you think before speaking, Shinya._

At least Kasamatsu-senpai doesn’t look offended.


	3. Chapter 3

The Winter Cup is close, and everyone claims to be aiming for victory, but Shinya’s sure that the only ones who really believe they have a chance to win are Hayakawa and Kasamatsu-senpai, and in the latter’s case Shinya suspects it has more to do with having a goal to strive for than with actual confidence. Rakuzan’s strong, and they’re outright fearsome now that they have those three Uncrowned Generals, so a more realistic goal for every other team is second place.

Nobody slacks off, though: everybody wants to become a starter.

“Who do you think’s gonna be the new captain?” Hayakawa asks as they walk to the station, his scarf muffling his words.

Shinya shrugs.

“I don’t know, why?”

“I thought you’d have an idea. You’(r)e a(l)ways thinking a (l)ot,” Hayakawa says, like that explains anything.

“Do you want me to guess?”

“No, I want to know who you think shou(l)d be captain.”

Shinya thinks of the second years that’ll probably get into the starting line-up after the Winter Cup. Moriyama-senpai and Kobori-senpai get put into games often, and Kasamatsu-senpai’s already a starter, so that narrows the list. Takenaka-senpai’s good, but Hayakawa and Shinya get put into games more often than he is, so he doesn’t stand a chance of getting the title.

Kobori-senpai’s definitely reliable, but he never realizes what’s happening around him, and he also seems much better at supporting people than at leading them.

Moriyama-senpai’s responsible, but some of the other first years have trouble taking him seriously when he starts talking about girls. With Kobori-senpai as vice-captain, he should be able to do a good job, but Shinya doesn’t think he’d be happy with the role.

Kasamatsu-senpai clearly has unresolved issues from the Interhigh, and Shinya doesn’t want to think about the extra pressure that being captain would put on his shoulders. At least he should become a captain who won’t blame them if they make a mistake during a match.

“I don’t know,” Shinya says, tucking the loose ends of his scarf into his coat.

Hayakawa huffs.

“And sta(r)te(r)s?”

“Kasamatsu-senpai, Kobori-senpai, Moriyama-senpai,” Shinya says quickly.

Hayakawa doesn’t ask about the other second years. He also must have been keeping count about how often everyone gets to play in matches.

A week before the Winter Cup, Shinya finds Kasamatsu-senpai brooding by the vending machines before practice. Shinya knows he’s brooding because he’s not by the vending machines near the gym, he’s at the other side of the school, frowning so much that Shinya’s surprised his eyes are still open, and he doesn’t notice Shinya’s arrival until he’s getting his drink.

“You’ll be late, senpai,” Shinya says, making the conscious decision of not looking at Kasamatsu-senpai.

“You’ll be late too,” Kasamatsu-senpai says, annoyed.

“I’m on cleaning duty today. My classroom’s right there.” Shinya points to the nearest building and chances a glance in Kasamatsu-senpai’s direction. The older boy is looking at the ground.

“Did something happen?”

“...who do you think should be captain?” Kasamatsu-senpai asks, and Shinya gets an idea of what might have happened.

He opens his drink and takes a gulp.

“Someone we can trust,” Shinya says, slowly, and tries to find anything else to add. “And who looks like he knows what he’s doing even when the rest of us doesn’t.” He’s out of things to say. “You’ll be- I mean, you would be good at that, I think. You already do that.” Even to his own ears he doesn’t sound entirely convinced, more like he’s just considering the possibility, but Kasamatsu-senpai doesn’t call him out on it.

Kaijou loses against Yousen in the semi-finals. The next day, Kasamatsu-senpai’s announced as the new captain. There are some complaints, but Hayakawa cheers loudly enough to drown most of the voices, and Shinya claps to help drown the rest.


	4. Chapter 4

Hayakawa drags Shinya to the Winter Cup final.

For the sake of accuracy, it must be clear that what Hayakawa did was tell Shinya that he wanted to see the match and that Shinya should go as well because it would be fun, and that maybe they could invite some of the second years? They could all get something to eat before it started, and taking the train back home would be safer if they were in a group, and, come on, Nakamura, let’s see what we’re dealing with next year!

Shinya considered pointing out that if they truly wanted to see what they’ll be dealing with next year they should have gone to the final of the middle school tournament, but in the ends stays silent and grudgingly agrees to go.

Everyone’s talking about the Generation of Miracles, about that cruel last game against Meikou, and all the schools are trying to get one of those five players, Kaijou being no exception. Shinya wonders what will happen if one of those monsters comes to their school. Whoever it is that they get will become a starter immediately, leaving only four spots available on the team, three of which are most likely to be taken by Kasamatsu-senpai, Kobori-senpai, and Moriyama-senpai. Unless they get another amazing new player next year, that leaves one spot for either Hayakawa or Shinya, and that’s as far as Shinya’s willing to think about the subject (that’s a lie: he’s been working harder, staying with Hayakawa for extra practice after everyone has gone home, and he doesn’t dwell on why he’s doing it - except for when he does, on the walk between the bus stop and his house).

They don’t get any of their teammates to join them, so Hayakawa talks on the train to the fill the silence. Shinya tunes him out and falls asleep, wakes up who knows how much time later by Hayakawa shaking him by the shoulder.

The final isn’t really surprising. For a team known as “Shield of Aegis”, Yousen's defense gets passed fairly quickly (although Shinya admits he’s being unfair out of bitterness for the recent loss - Mibuchi Reo’s shots are almost impossible to stop), and while the match is still interesting to see, Rakuzan has the advantage almost all the time.

“Fou(r)th tou(r)nament in a (r)ow,” Hayakawa says later, as they walk back to the station. “Do you think it’s going to be the same thing next yea(r)?” he asks, looking absolutely miserable.

“Next year the Generation of Miracles starts highschool. Unless they go to Rakuzan, it definitely won’t be the same.”

“Do you think one of them wi(ll) go to Kaijou?”

“We’re good. We might get one.”

“I hope it’s not the captain. He (l)ooks sca(r)y.” Hayakawa makes a face that implies what he's thinking is more along the lines of ‘He looks like he’s planning how to kill you and dispose of the body’ than just ‘scary’. Shinya knows because he thinks the same thing - it must be the eyes, or maybe how in every interview he speaks like he’s in absolute control of the situation.

“Has anyone actually heard anything good about those guys?” Shinya asks, trying to keep the conversation going out of guilt for ignoring Hayakawa on the train.

“They said the mode(l) was nice. But afte(r) that fina(l)…”

“Let’s assume that none of them is nice, and hope they’re bearable,” Shinya says, his tone more severe than he’d intended.

On the train home it's Hayakawa the one who falls asleep, so Shinya keeps himself awake by looking up information about the Generation of Miracles on his phone. He doesn’t find anything he hasn’t heard or seen before, except for a video of the middle school final. It’s revolting to see the way they’d toyed with the opposite team, but at the same time oddly fascinating: how they’d taken control of the game’s flow from the start, how they’d managed to stop even the most well-thought plays and seemingly perfect shots.

If he was completely sure that Hayakawa would be the one on the bench next year, Shinya would be praying for one of those guys to go to Kaijou, to give them the chance to win, but Shinya isn’t sure he can become a starter instead of Hayakawa. They’re both similar when it comes to defensive skills, but Hayakawa can catch the rebounds, while Shinya doesn’t have much else to offer. He wants Kaijou to win, but he isn’t a good enough person to want to stay on the bench while that happens. Shinya has worked as hard as everyone else, and now some insanely talented first year might come along and take the place he would have gotten otherwise?

But still… being champions would be nice, even if all he ends up doing is cheering from the bench.

Shinya looks out the window and asks whatever higher power that's listening for the best possible outcome for Kaijou.


	5. Chapter 5

Either no higher power had listened to Shinya’s plea, or the one who had had been a demon, because there’s no way that Kise Ryouta will bring the best possible outcome for Kaijou.

That was the first thing Shinya thought after Kise had finished his introduction when he entered the club, and while he has to admit that the guy has become slightly more bearable after getting kicked and hearing Kasamatsu-senpai’s speech about respecting the older members of the club, Shinya still can’t bring himself to like him that much.

After three days, everyone’s relatively used to Kise, and they seem to take some kind of comfort in having him in the club - it’s hard not to when you see him play like he was made for it, smooth movements, perfect shots. Shinya can’t help but think that maybe they will get far this year, allows himself a moment to imagine them winning the Interhigh, or the Winter Cup… and then he reminds himself that Kise had started playing after the other members of the Generation of Miracles, thinks of the difference in skill he’d seen at the middle school final - that barely noticeable gap that was there anyway, a reminder that this one still had ways to go – and berates himself for dreaming.

Still, he tries to be relatively optimistic about everything, and even if they got the worst player, they should get a spot among the best 8 in the country anyway, so… it’s not so bad, right?

Right. Yes. Except he doesn’t believe it, because there’s no point in being in the best 8 of the country, just like there isn’t any point in being the reserve player with the highest chances of being put into the game. When people talk, they remember the four teams that came first, and everybody else is put into the same category: not good enough. Hell, everyone but the winners will be remembered as ‘not good enough’.

Shinya tries to avoid Kise, tries to interact as little as possible with him, out of regard for his own mental health, but there are still times when he gets stuck dealing with him, cleaning the gym or practicing passes. Kise tries to make small talk, covers a variety of topics, as if trying to find something that will make Shinya react, but Shinya’s unsure of why Kise’s talking so much to him, why he’s making this effort, and so he talks very little, limits himself to listening to Kise’s chatter.

“We can talk about basketball, senpai,” he says one day, eager, jogging at Shinya’s side. “Or about whatever you want.”

Shinya looks at him out of the corner of his eye. He’s tempted to stay quiet - to save his breath because there are still too many laps left to run - but then remembers that not replying to people isn’t really polite.

“It’s fine, Kise, we don’t really need to talk about much.”

Kise frowns, looks almost affronted. As far as politeness goes, it probably would have been better if Shinya hadn’t said anything, or if he’d at least thought for a second before speaking.

“But, Nakamura-senpai, I want to get along with you,” Kise says, his voice sounding slightly whiny.

“Why?”

“Because we’re teammates.”

“We don’t have to get along, we just need to work together,” Shinya points out, thinking that maybe this will end Kise’s pitiful efforts.

Kise doesn’t reply to him, and the look on his face almost makes Shinya stop in his tracks – his eyes are cold, and his expression reflects an emotion that Shinya can’t name, one of the shades in the spectrum between anger and sadness.

They finish the laps in silence.

After practice, Kise approaches Shinya again as he’s leaving the gym. He stands in front of Shinya, gives him a look that might be a challenge, and Shinya prepares himself for an argument, for a demand for attention, a small-scale repeat of Kise’s first day at the club, but instead Kise starts walking again.

He takes a couple of steps and stops, turns to Shinya, as if coaxing him to follow.

Shinya isn’t really sure what’s going on, so he walks to Kise, stops in front of him. Kise walks again, turns and stops again when he realizes that Shinya isn’t following.

It’s absurd. Shinya briefly considers pointing it out, but he opts instead for resuming his walk towards the school gates. This time, he doesn’t stop next to Kise, who accompanies him in silence.

Maybe there’s something Shinya should say, but nothing comes to mind and Kise still looks strange, so Shinya doesn’t think he can afford saying the wrong thing.

“This team isn’t like Teikou,” Kise says when they reach the school gates. There’s no emotion in his voice, like he’s just stating a meaningless fact. Or maybe that’s exactly what it is, a meaningless fact, and Shinya’s reading too much into things.

“Yes, probably,” Shinya says, just in case Kise was expecting an answer.

“Senpai…” Kise sighs. “I’m really trying to get along with you.”

“Kise, you probably won’t have to play with me, at least this year. There’s no need for you to try so hard now.”

“Even then, I’d rather start now… Teikou wasn’t that big on teamwork. I’m sort of getting the hang of it.” He smiles humorlessly.

 _So what?_ , Shinya wants to ask. _Now we have to teach you how to pass?_

He licks his lips and looks at Kise, uncertain and nervous.

“I’m sure you’ll get used to it soon.”

Kise looks at him with slightly narrowed eyes and nods.

“Kasamatsu-senpai will probably beat it into me sooner or later.”

That gets a smile out of Shinya.

“Probably.” He thinks about whether or not there’s anything he’d like to add, tries to sum up everything that’s running through his head. “Really, Kise, what I said before is true. We just need to play together, nothing else.”

He says it because he truly believes it, because there’s no point in what Kise’s doing, and because the sooner that idea about getting along with him gets out of Kise’s head, the better it’ll be for both of them. He’d hoped that Kise would get it, but instead he gives Shinya an almost worried look and shrugs.

“I’m going this way,” Kise says, pointing to his right. “See you tomorrow, senpai.” He looks like there’s something else he wants to say, but he presses his lips tightly and turns to leave.

Shinya stops to watch him for a moment before resuming the walk home.


	6. Chapter 6

They get a practice match against Seirin. Shinya isn’t sure why the coach wants them to play against such a small team, and he can tell that his teammates are wondering the same thing – no matter how you look at it, a team that’s only on its second year can’t beat an already well-established one like Kaijou, with its professional training regime, its history of excellence and now with a member of the Generation of Miracles in its ranks.

Somehow they’ll all have to pretend that it wasn’t cruel to set up this match after they’ve wiped the floor with Seirin.

Any thoughts about fairness and honor leave Shinya’s head when he hears coach Takeuchi tell Kise that he won’t be playing, replaced by the thrill of knowing he’ll be on the court soon (with a hint of shame at the small corner of his brain that reminds him that, maybe, if he’s good enough he can take Hayakawa’s place in the team).

Then Seirin’s number 10 goes and breaks the hoop, forcing the coach to put Kise in the game to ensure Kaijou’s victory, and for a brief moment - before disappointment sets in and leaves him slightly numb – Shinya wonders if 10 is his unlucky number, after all, both Hayakawa and Seirin’s redhead wear it, and both of them have ensured that Shinya doesn’t get to play with the starters.

He still cheers for Kaijou, because no matter how much he wishes he was on the court with them, he’s far more eager to see them win, but he feels a horrible, sickening pinch of satisfaction at seeing Kise defeated, at finally seeing him at the level everyone else is at: painfully aware that you could do better.

He doesn’t talk to Kise after the game. There’s no point, because Kasamatsu-senpai had already taken care of the serious/uplifting/encouraging/you’re-annoying speech, and the rest of the starters and those that felt friendly enough towards Kise had delivered all the supposedly comforting shoulder pats, so there’s nothing left for Shinya to do. Besides, he feels guilty about approaching Kise after thinking that losing had been good for him.

Kise corners Shinya the next day. They run into each other by the vending machines that are on the opposite side of where the gym is, and Kise pretends he is surprised to see him there, except it’s such an obvious ambush that Shinya doesn’t know why Kise bothers pretending it isn’t. Those vending machines are rarely used, because there are others closer to the classrooms and the gyms, and Shinya likes them because he can walk there after class, before club activities start, and get some time to clear his head after spending the day around other people.

There is silence after the mandatory greetings. Kise lets Shinya buy first, watches him as Shinya counts the change and stands, unsure, in front of the machine. The whole point of getting something was to stand there for a few minutes drinking it, alone, but now that Kise’s with him, there doesn’t seem to be much point in the action. All he’ll be doing is to waste money in a drink he doesn’t actually want.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Shinya says, putting the money in his pocket and standing aside to let Kise buy something.

Kise studies the options, taking what seems like an eternity to Shinya before putting in his coins and choosing.

“We lost yesterday,” Kise says as he kneels to get his can.

“Yes, we did,” Shinya says, slowly.

“I didn’t like it.” Kise’s still kneeling, turning the can around in his hands, staring at his reflection in the vending machine’s glass.

 _Yes, I saw that. We all saw that_ , Shinya thinks. He nods.

“Nobody did.”

“Hm.” Kise’s hands still. “What did you think of it?”

“We lost, there’s nothing to think about. We’ll just have to improve.”

“Yes. _We_ ,” Kise says, looking at Shinya as he says the second word. “The ones who lost.” There’s something in the way Kise says the words that stops Shinya from becoming furious: there isn’t any disdain, any hardness in his tone, just resignation, and the look that flashes across his face for a moment makes the sentence sound like an apology.

“Kaijou lost,” Shinya says. “We lost.”

“Kaijou lost.” Kise repeats, standing up, and sighs. “I felt like I was the one that lost.”

“Everyone in the court felt that way.” Shinya thinks for a moment whether to say what he wants to say, decides it’s better if he does. “And the ones on the bench felt that too. All of us want to improve. We’ll do better next time.”

Kise finally stands up, giving Shinya a look he can’t decipher – Kise’s face is entirely devoid of expression, and his head is slightly tilted to the side, like he’s figuring something out.

“You almost got to play yesterday,” Kise says abruptly.

“Yes.”

“But you couldn’t.”

“No.”

"Because I was in the court."

Shinya doesn't see any point in replying to that. The silence stretches, Kise watching Shinya like he's expecting an attack. After a long moment, Kise nods and smiles, eyes closing and teeth showing.

“We should go or we’ll be late,” he says, and starts walking towards the gym.

Shinya watches him go, considering the pros and cons of pretending to be sick and skipping practice that day.

Kise turns and motions for him to follow, still smiling, less wide but still too bright.

Shinya moves forward.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone has a request for this fic, [let me know](http://veto-power-over-fanworks.tumblr.com/ask)! I know how it's going to end (the last drabble has been written already), but I don't know how many drabbles I'll write before I get there, so until then, prompts are welcome and highly appreciated.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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